Three Little Words
by the moon and the stars
Summary: Those three little words said nothing and everything, and incredibly, they were her most dangerous confession yet. By themselves the words were harmless, but with the proper kindling, they would ignite an inferno. Which is exactly what she had just done. She had shown her hand, lit the match, and now it was only a matter of time before the flames consumed her. Klaroline. Post-4x07.


**Summary: **Those three little words said nothing and everything, and incredibly, they were her most dangerous confession yet. By themselves the words were harmless, but with the proper kindling, they would ignite an inferno. Which is exactly what she had just done. She had shown her hand, lit the match, and now it was only a matter of time before the flames consumed her. Klaroline. Post-4x07.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, nada, zip. Anything you recognize belongs to the glorious TVD gods. Particularly the bits of 4x07 that I reference for context, and some paraphrased dialogue inspired by scenes in 4x14.

**Rating: **T just to be safe, for non-graphic references to abuse.

**Pairing: **Klaroline, with mentions of Forwood and Delena.

**A/N: **I'm not exactly sure what this is. I had this weird spark of inspiration where I wanted to do my own version of the pervasive Klaus-finds-out-what-Damon-did-to-Caroline-when-sh e-was-human prompt, and this is the result – my first one-shot that went in a completely different direction than I meant it to. Oops?

Also, I couldn't remember how far Caroline's house is from Tyler's – is it within walking distance? I can't remember – so grant me a little latitude on that. Okay? Okay.

Last thing: Apologies if Caroline seems slightly OOC in this fic. I really did my best to keep her canon, and I can only hope that I did her character justice. I realize that the way I wrote her feelings on the 'Damon issue' are probably a tad unconventional… Please see my disclaimer at the end. Hopefully that will clear up any confusion.

Eek, I seem to be incapable of writing a concise A/N… Oh well. Enjoy!

* * *

"The hidden harmony is better than the obvious." – Pablo Picasso

* * *

**Three Little Words**

As the sounds of clinking champagne flutes and animated chatter fell to a dull drone across the Lockwood property, announcing the end of yet another town function, Caroline nearly wept with relief. All day long she had traipsed across the elaborately decorated lawn – in _heels_, no less – barking orders at lazy bus boys, mingling with woefully under-qualified pageant contestants, and trying (_and failing_) to avoid the teenage soap opera that was her life. She _definitely_ deserved a break. She should have been curled up on her couch at home, munching on leftover lasagna and watching The Bachelor by now. She_ should _have been_, _but she wasn't.

Because apparently, the universe saw fit to use her as its punching bag for the day. Someone on the assigned clean-up crew called in sick, so tag! She's it.

Well, fine. Never let it be said that Caroline Forbes didn't rise to the occasion. Although, yeah, okay, she could probably just grab some random Joe off the street and use her oh-so-convenient, supernatural powers of persuasion to get herself off the hook, but mind control had never really been her forte. So that was that. Morality, one; Vampire Barbie, zip.

She got straight to work bussing tables, cringing at a horrible red wine stain left on a white lace tablecloth – one of the fine set that had been used at every formal town event since she was born. And there was no water, no napkins in sight; not a single sign that anyone had even bothered to clean up after themselves, and seriously? Was common decency the next thing to go in this hopeless excuse for a town?

She shook her head in annoyance as she snatched the soiled tablecloth, resolving to try and salvage it later with a bit of Club soda. Okay, fine, moving on. One table down, fifteen more to go. Great.

Releasing a long-overdue sigh, Caroline abandoned her dish towel and looked around, admiring her handiwork one final time. It definitely lived up to her reputation. Once she'd finally gotten the decorating committee to put the floral arrangements in their proper places and she'd found a quick replacement for the cellist who'd suddenly sprained her wrist, everything had just fallen into place. The Lockwood estate had transformed from being just another run-of-the-mill Mystic Falls mansion into an autumn pageant paradise. And as pleased as she was that the ceremony went off without a hitch, and that this stressful day was coming to a close, Caroline almost felt sorry it was over.

It didn't take her long to put the pieces together. With the end of today's ceremony and the crowning of April Young, her Miss Mystic Falls successor, came the bittersweet realization that this town was moving on, and that scared her. These simple, hometown traditions were all she had ever known, her safety net. And with her newly acquired immortality, she couldn't exactly stick around pretending to be human forever. She couldn't keep this town forever. She had to let it go.

Giving up Miss Mystic Falls was just the beginning. Soon enough she'd be graduating, going off to college, and growing up without actually _aging_. And given this town's unilaterally negative stance on creatures of the night, she highly doubted it would welcome back an eternal, bloodsucking teenager, no matter how many dances and fundraisers Caroline had personally organized. Soon this town would turn its back on her. Forever. Which is why Caroline was determined to cling to Mystic Falls, to her humanity, while she still could.

She shook her head, scattering the gloomy thoughts. That's what she got for neglecting her chores. Sitting still led to thinking, and thinking led to obsessing, and obsessing led to spiraling, and... well. Suffice it to say that that was a slippery slope she had no intention of falling down. At least, not without another drink in hand.

In the meantime, she'd settle for making herself useful. Cleaning tables might not be the most glamorous of pastimes for the chairman of the decorating committee, but it kept those pesky little thoughts at bay.

Added bonus? It gave her a legitimate excuse to avoid interacting with a certain relentless, homicidal, date-extorting hybrid. Speaking of the devil, where_ – _

"Miss Mystic Falls' work is never done, I see."

Klaus.

_And he doth appear_.

Not that she was surprised; she hardly expected (_hoped_) he would ditch her on their first (_and only_) date, but hey. She could dream.

She threw him her best go-away-I'm-busy face before once again busying herself with dirty hors d'oeuvre plates and empty champagne bottles.

"Although," he continued, not at all put off by her frostiness, "manual labor hardly becomes someone as finely dressed as you. Have I told you yet how lovely you look this evening, Caroline?"

Time's like this, Caroline thanked her lucky stars that vampirism had all but cured her pathetic desperation to be noticed by any member of the male species. Otherwise ignoring this latest Romeo ploy would be next to impossible.

"Nothing wrong with getting my hands a little dirty," she replied coolly, ignoring the compliment. "And I think you mean _former_ Miss Mystic Falls," she added, eyes darting across the lawn to her successor, who was busy taking her mingling obligation to task. "My reign's over, remember?"

"Does it bother you?"

That brought her up short. He was the first person to ask all day, and that more than anything sparked her curiosity. She paused in the act of stacking plates to face him.

Klaus bent his head, studying her. Like she was a riddle he was determined to solve. God, did he actually _care_?

For some reason, that floored her. Which is probably why her response held all the eloquence of a bumbling teenager.

"No." _Yes_. "Not really. Okay, maybe a little," she admitted, reluctantly. "Look, I know it's stupid and shallow and… and _human_, but winning Miss Mystic Falls… I felt like, I don't know, for the first time in my life, people actually saw _me_. Which back then was a big deal for me, _huge_ actually, since, you know, nobody even really knew me as anything other than Elena's friend or the leader of this committee or that study group, and I – I – what?"

He was smirking at her, looking entirely too amused considering she was kind of _baring her soul_ here.

"I think that's the most words I've ever heard you use in a sentence," he teased, and Caroline glared in response. Then, more seriously, "You felt validated by your peers, Caroline. It's perfectly understandable. But if I may say," his voice lowered, intimately, "you don't need a small town title for that, love. Your light shines brighter than any crown."

Her insides twisted. Okay, this was getting _way_ too personal. All day long they'd been toeing the line between polite chit-chat and outright flirting –images of champagne and hummingbirds and _'Oh my God, is that my Miss Mystic application? Where did you get that?!' _came to mind – which is how she knew instinctively that this, right now, was something different. Something _more_. This was headed somewhere. Somewhere she definitely didn't want to go.

Time to hit the brakes. Now.

Caroline bit her lip, and in a rather lame (not to mention _obvious_) attempt to diffuse the tension, she turned around and resumed the tedious task of folding tablecloths. Anything to avoid looking at him. "What are you still doing here anyway?" she changed the subject. "You were M.I.A. so long I was starting to think you'd borrowed some poor, unsuspecting guest for a snack."

She'd meant it as a joke, but they both knew it was anything but. It was a Gold Star Day indeed when this guy _wasn't _dropping bodies. Which was pretty much never.

"Now what kind of man would I be if I abandoned a lady to the mercy of all those slighted pageant contestants?"

She shook her head, willing herself not to smile. "Yeah, you're a regular Jack Dawson, I get it."

He appeared next to her, apparently determined to invade her personal space. Seriously, get her some police tape, stat. "Seeing as you're just about finished here – " she totally _wasn't_ " – may I offer you a ride home?"

She looked up from her current table. "Let me guess. Even if I say no, you'll just insist on seeing me all the way to my door like a gentleman?"

"Beauty and brains, I knew there was a reason I liked you." His velvety voice was all charm. "Since you know me so well, we can move straight past the formality of your refusal and get this show on the road." He offered her his arm. "Shall we, love?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a big girl, Klaus. I don't need an escort," she said, because despite what he'd just established, she wouldn't be Caroline Forbes if she didn't put up a fight.

"I'm well aware that you are more than capable of handling yourself, so I am simply asking that you indulge a request. Plus," his eyes narrowed at something past her shoulder, "it might just give your adulterous ex-boyfriend some food for thought," he finished, loud enough that she was sure the 'ex' in question had no problem hearing it.

Riiight. She still had a part to play. She and Tyler were supposed to be splitzville, and he was here with his new squeeze to establish them as a legitimate couple, all to hide the fact that the pair was actually tag-teaming Operation: Hybrid Rescue. And while Caroline was willing to help and give a repeat performance of The Blonde Distraction, did they _really_ have to flaunt their fake-relationship so blatantly? Seriously, the were-skank was flashing so much cleavage it could probably hold her champagne glass all on its own. Look, ma! No hands.

Okay, fine, that was a tad unfair. Poor taste in wardrobe aside, Hayley's neck was in the noose same as the rest of them, and it was all for the cause. And that was the part that mattered. No matter how many times the she-wolf pawed at her boyfriend.

"Caroline," Klaus prompted her, reminding her that she hadn't yet answered. "Really, love. It would be my pleasure."

Something moved past her peripheral vision. Tyler. Their eyes locked across the lawn for less than a second, but she saw enough. His gaze mirrored the same helpless jealousy she felt all day watching him with Hayley. The situation might have been manipulated, sure, but the feelings of resentment were real enough.

But as messed up as it all was, those feelings might just be a _good_ thing. They could use them to their advantage. A dose of genuine emotion was exactly the kind of stimulus she needed to give their ruse the credibility it sorely lacked. (Because let's be honest: with a thousand-year-old master manipulator as their target, they seriously needed all the help they could get.) If they wanted to fool Klaus, their performances had to be Oscar-worthy.

So despite mixed feelings, Caroline was determined to see this charade to the bitter end.

"Oh, fine," she relented, abandoning the tablecloths and taking her date's arm, "but don't even _think_ about reading any more of my Miss Mystic application!"

"Fair enough," he chuckled, dimples making their fifth appearance of the day. _Not_ that she was counting or anything.

As they headed in the direction of his car, they eased into what might have been a comfortable silence. It _might_ have been, if she could forget for one second that she was walking arm-in-arm with the man who, by his own admission, was the most powerful creature on the planet. Not to mention the most dangerous. And she was currently lying to him. Again. Past experience and the creeping feeling in her gut pointed to Epic Failure 2.0.

Because only an idiot would not be at least a little terrified of this man, right? And Caroline was no idiot. Oh, she put up a tough front when he was being a complete and total ass (i.e. _always_), knowing that for whatever reason, he afforded her a certain amount of latitude with her sassiness. She was probably the only person aside from his siblings who could boast that privilege. But in spite of that, yes, he scared her… on a much deeper level. He scared her in a way that didn't even fully make sense to her. Because what kind of person (a baby vampire, at that) warranted such special attention? Such devotion?

It was something she neither understood nor desired. But it was hers regardless, so she'd make the best of it.

Caroline let her gaze linger on Tyler one last time before she tore it away, and ugh, this must have been the universe's idea of a crap joke. Just a year ago, she had been human, needy, and absolutely desperate for the exact situation she suddenly found herself thrust into: two hot alpha males playing tug-of-war with her heart. It was the kind of romantic drama that great novels and trashy TV were made of, after all. And this time, _she_ was in the lead role, not Elena. Looking back on it, she didn't give her friend nearly enough credit in her dealings with the Salvatore brothers. Love triangles weren't all they were cracked up to be, because they conveniently leave out the most important detail: two men fighting over you won't make you feel complete; it will only tear you apart.

Moral of the story? Be careful what you wish for. And who.

"You're awfully quiet, love," Klaus observed, reminding her of present company. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's just, um… Elena," she lied quickly. "I wish I could talk some sense into her, you know… the whole _Damon _of it all."

"Ah, yes. The doppelganger's peculiar new flavor of the week. Tell me something, Caroline." As they finally reached his black SUV, he popped open the side door and pivoted sideways to face her. Their arms were still linked. "What is it about him in particular that bothers you?"

Her eyebrows shot up, incredulous. "You're kidding, right? Have you _met_ Damon? He's a dangerous, obnoxious ass. Not exactly boyfriend material." _Trust me, I'd know._

He searched her face, gauging her reaction carefully, and she could only hope that she guarded herself well enough to pass his little test. She could tell his inquiry wasn't random; he was fishing for information, maybe even trying to confirm what she feared he already suspected. And even though she hadn't lied, she had left a hell of a lot out of the full story.

Like the part where Damon made her his personal blood bag and sex toy. The part where he used her to rile Stefan up and make Elena jealous. The part where he made her feel absolutely worthless.

Klaus gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Point taken."

Relieved, Caroline climbed into the vehicle, closed her door, and she thought that was the end of the Damon Inquisition.

She really should have known better.

He waited until the Lockwood estate had completely faded from their rearview, just long enough for her defenses to drop, before he struck again.

"It just seems to me, sweetheart," he began, out of nowhere, "that you have a _particular_ vendetta against the elder Salvatore that spurs your disapproval of his pursuit of the lovely Elena, and I'd wager it has nothing to do with your loyalty to his brother." The words alone seemed neutral, but his tone held the subtle edge of an accusation – a bit of a one-eighty from the light banter they had been exchanging not five minutes ago.

Crap. This was _so_ not a road she wanted to go down. Like, _ever_.

She tried to hide her unease behind a scoff. "What are you, a detective?"

"Yes, and you're avoiding the question." He tore his eyes from the road to stare her down.

She had been careful before, but this time was different. This time he had caught her off guard, so it really came as no surprise that he could read the truth on her face, clear as day.

What _did_ come as surprise was his complete and total overreaction. Then again, Klaus always was a bit of a drama queen.

Next thing Caroline knew, the brakes screeched bloody murder and her body tossed against her seatbelt like a rag doll as he swerved the car off the road to an abrupt standstill.

Once her heart started back up, she rounded on him in her seat. "Klaus, what the hell?"

"What did he do to you?" he demanded, all pretense of patience forgotten.

She didn't pretend to misunderstand. The cat was already out of the bag. Hell, it was practically dancing the cha-cha between them. The car suddenly felt very crowded.

"It was when he first came to Mystic Falls. You didn't know me as a human, but, well, let's just say I wasn't exactly Wonder Woman back then – " ('_Stupid. And shallow. And _useless_._') " – and Damon, he, um… didn't exactly bolster my already-limited feelings of self-worth," she admitted. "I mean, I didn't realize at the time that I was basically just a pawn in his whole 'get back at Stefan and save Katherine' plot, but everything changed later. When he fell for Elena. After that, he… I don't know. Became less terrible," she finished lamely.

In sharp contrast with her uncertainty, Klaus looked absolutely murderous, and Caroline feared she just signed Damon's death sentence… or at the very least, sentenced him to a (short and terrifying) life in vampire witness protection. He was no great loss to the world by any means, but Stefan and Elena would be heartbroken, and honestly, Caroline didn't need his blood on her hands. If she didn't do something _right now_, she'd bet the next piece of jewelry she got would be carved from the bones of the next guy on the hybrid's hit list. '_A trophy for the victor. Fondly, Klaus.'_

She hastened to make it right, but it was like trying to hold back a storm. "Look, I know what you're thinking, and yeah, okay, I might've fantasized about ripping his head off once or twice, but it's over now, it was a long time ago, and – "

"It couldn't have been that long ago," Klaus argued, fiercely. "Caroline, he's been here little more than a _year_."

"Yeah, well, a lot can happen in a year!" she shot back, hating how defensive she sounded. "I mean, look at me, for heaven's sakes! Just last year I was human, and stupid, and pathetic, and I let myself get suckered into an abusive string of one-night stands with a jerk who was only with me because my best friend was off-the-market and he wanted to stick it to his brother. And I let him! All because he gave me like two seconds of attention."

The Original's entire body stiffened, and it wasn't until Caroline heard the telltale _crick-crick-crick_ of straining plastic that she realized he was still clenching the steering wheel with white-knuckled fists – probably a last ditch effort to keep himself from bolting from the vehicle and going after what he _really_ wanted to strangle.

"If you're trying to talk me into sparing that pathetic excuse for a vampire, you might want to revise your strategy."

"My point is," she surged on, "We're not the same people we used to be. Not me, not Damon. Even _I_ can acknowledge that."

"A history of vanity and naivety is hardly on par with one of violence and manipulation, sweetheart," he reasoned, and his condescension was seriously starting to tick her off.

"Yeah, because you're not an authority in that area or anything," she retorted. "Hypocrite, much?"

His jaw clenched. "_Caroline_ – "

"Look," she tried again, "Damon's no boy scout, obviously, but at least – "

"Listen to yourself, defending him," he scoffed, clearly disgusted by the idea. Then, with rough determination, "I'll kill him."

"You're not killing Damon," she said, firmly. "I mean, are you really just gonna deprive us of a key player in our hunt for the cure? That doesn't sound like you."

"I think _key player_ is overreaching a bit," he seethed, "and I sincerely doubt that the absence of one insignificant soldier will cripple our efforts in the war. You're forgetting I still have my hybrids."

Aaand they were back to square one. His remark, in addition to poking a fatal hole in her argument, sliced straight through her confidence. It was a harsh reminder of the deadly game they were all playing. Soon enough, all of Klaus' sired minions would be free of their bonds and lead the coup against him, but until that fateful day, all of them were walking on eggshells. Forget Damon. Caroline and Tyler were on the chopping block just as sure as he was. The difference was that they could still avoid detection… but only if they played it safe.

Caroline said nothing.

"So you see, love, there's absolutely nothing stopping me from ripping out Damon's heart and force feeding it to him."

At that, Spunky Caroline made a comeback. "Jeez, take the dramatics down a few notches, will you?"

"I'm serious, Caroline. He's a dead man. There's no reason – "

"_No reason_, huh? How about the fact that it's _wrong_? Or how about because _I don't want you to_?"

"Sweetheart, I'm doing this for you – "

"No, you're doing this for _you_!" she shouted, her anger skyrocketing past his. "You seem to have this ridiculous, archaic notion that I need to be saved or whatever, even though _you're_ the one drawing the battle lines. God, do guys like you get off on this kind of thing? Playing the big shot hero to curry favor with the damsel in distress? Well, newsflash!" She threw her hands up. "I'm a solo act, mister. Not to get all femi-nazi on you, but I can handle my own problems just fine. So jump back into whatever melodrama you stumbled out of, because you are _not_ my hero, and I am nobody's victim, least of all Damon Salvatore's!"

Silence. A long, thick silence greeted her outburst, and Caroline immediately knew she'd crossed a line. She couldn't remember a time when she'd _ever_ rendered Klaus speechless, but all signs pointed to DEFCON 1: A sudden, unexplainable chill pierced her to the bone, though only seconds ago the car felt utterly stifling during their heated exchange. It felt like she was trapped with a caged tiger – _wolf_ – and in anticipation of the telltale flash of gold in the hybrid's eyes (the precursor for an even scarier party trick), her hand scrambled for the door handle behind her, ready to get the hell out of dodge at an instant's notice.

Oh God, why was he just staring at her like that? Why wasn't he saying anything? Where was the rage, the _fight_? Somehow, this quiet, stony Klaus scared her a hell of a lot more than if he'd just bitten her head off. At least that would have been predictable.

Slowly, he swiveled his upper body to face hers and he finally released his grip on the steering wheel. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for the axe to fall.

But when he finally spoke, the soft, awed whisper that came out sounded absolutely nothing like the dangerous predator she knew.

"You're right."

Caroline felt paralyzed. Those were two words she never, ever expected to hear from the man in front of her. All she could do was gape at him like a goldfish, waiting for the catch she knew was coming.

"Though I disagree with your methods, your retribution is your own," he conceded. His tone was business-like with a hint of something else she couldn't identify. "It would be wrong to rob you of it."

And _there_ it was. Caroline relaxed into her leather seat and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, because honestly, his reaction wasn't an anomaly, after all. This was just classic Klaus.

Out of every possible argument she could have made to spare Damon's stupid life, it made total sense that the one to finally crack through the hybrid's abnormally thick skull was the one that appealed to his sense of pride. Knowing Klaus, he would have taken it as a personal insult if someone other than himself staked his enemies; and so, in his twisted eye-for-an-eye sense of justice, he was simply extending Caroline a courtesy: the right to end Damon herself. Not that she had any intention of going all Buffy on him, but still. It was the thought that counted.

On the other hand, Caroline seriously doubted the gesture had anything to do with altruism; it was just a convenient excuse that let her have her way without him losing face. Because killing Damon was clearly much more of a need to satisfy _his_ wounded ego, not hers. In delusional little Klaus Land, an attack upon 'his' woman equaled one upon the Original himself, one that would be returned ten-fold. It was a disturbing realization, but not a surprising one. Impulse control wasn't exactly in the Hybrid Handbook, after all. But maybe this time could be an exception. Maybe, because it was her, he would look past the instant gratification of Damon's heart on a spit and see the bigger picture. Because surely he had to know that in destroying that one man's life, a life she was determined to save – and don't even get her started on the irony of _that _– he risked alienating her forever.

So the million dollar question was, could the Original's feelings for her actually outweigh his own pride? The answer wasn't so obvious anymore.

"And now," Klaus broke into her musings, voice decidedly deeper than before, "I believe I understand precisely why you have no desire to take the cure."

_Huh?_

Her face pinched in bewilderment. "Um, what? Where are you getting that from? I never said – "

"You're right, you didn't. In fact, I recall you avoiding that particular question altogether. I could find us a bench under a tree and bottle of champagne to jog your memory, if you like," he quipped. Then, genuinely, "But I know you, Caroline. Much better than you think. You like being in control. Fearless. Confident. Independent."

Well then. She couldn't argue that, at least not until she knew where he was going with this.

"You have no wish to go back to the girl you once were because, as much as you may hate to admit it, you equate your humanity with weakness. And you are not weak. You are _magnificent_."

Her gut twisted and she knew he had her pegged. Without really knowing how it had happened, she had allowed herself to open up and reveal one of her darkest, most shameful secrets of her entire life. And even though it could still end up costing her, she didn't regret sharing that vulnerability with Klaus. Unlike Stefan and Elena, he held no sympathy for Damon. He could be properly outraged on her behalf, and strange as it was, Caroline liked having someone (even _him_) in her corner for a change. She liked that someone understood where she came from and where she was going.

Never again would she let herself be as weak as Damon made her feel, even if that meant trading in her old dreams of white picket fences and two-point-five kids for an eternity as a blood-sucking teenager with extreme neuroses and sunburn issues. Yeah, vampirism came with a few weaknesses of its own, but so far the perks far outweighed the drawbacks. This last year alone, though mostly terrifying, was also her most exhilarating one yet. She had never felt more powerful. She could be a total bad ass, defending herself and her friends with her awesome Superman strength and agility; she could get shot, stabbed, or even have her neck broken and still ultimately walk away without a scratch; and she could always be the predator, never the prey, hunting down the wicked and doling out vampire justice whenever she wanted.

Klaus had spoken the truth. The past was the past, and while she had accepted hers, she wouldn't let it define her ever again. Cure or no cure, there was no going back for Caroline Forbes.

And he knew that; he knew _her_.

"You're right," she admitted, because honestly, why bother denying it? "I don't want the cure. I never did."

A smile tugged at his lips, and just like that, he was all charm again. "I know. We're alike, you and I."

She hated that he was right, that he understood her so well. He understood her personal disdain for human weakness. He understood her unvoiced desire for more than a small town life. He understood her need for control, her need to do things on her own, no matter how challenging or downright frustrating. And all of these things he understood because he felt them too. Like kindred spirits. And wasn't that just the scariest thing ever?

"_Anyway_," she persisted past the thought, "I'm staying my indestructible self, and we've established I don't need a bodyguard, so please. Drop the creepy revenge fantasies and give Damon a pass. Okay?"

Caroline was rewarded with an honest to God, non-diabolical smile, and wow, never in a million years did she actually think Klaus would cave. She felt triumphant. Things were definitely starting to look up. Damon might just live to see his next birthday, and she was back on track for her evening with The Bachelor. _Victory._

And it would have ended right there, but apparently the universe wasn't done screwing with her just yet. In a moment of complete and total carelessness, she became living proof that even vampires can suffer from chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome.

"Besides, you're not exactly one to judge," she commented, already moving to face the front of the car again.

She'd meant it (mostly) as a joke, but apparently Klaus didn't get the memo.

He caught her arm, preventing her from turning away. She whipped her head around to snipe at him, but his burning gaze silenced her. She didn't miss the warning there.

"Meaning what, exactly?"

She shot a pointed look at the hand gripping her arm, making her annoyance clear. He released her with reluctance.

"Meaning you don't exactly have any moral high ground to stand on here," she told him, and seriously, did this even need to be said? "I mean, yeah, Damon's a grade-A jerkwad and always will be, but come on, Klaus. Your villain to-do list makes him look like Mother freaking Theresa."

His eyes flashed in the darkness. "That's a rather unflattering portrait you're painting of me while you champion your former abuser. Enlighten me, sweetheart. What is it that's redeemed him in your eyes?"

It was meant as a demand, but the accusation in his tone betrayed his uncertainty. _'Redeemed _him _in your eyes,' _he'd said. The emphasis was barely discernible, but it made all the difference. He couldn't care less why she tolerated Damon; he only wanted to know why it wasn't _him_. Why did she rule only one of them guilty when they had both committed crimes against her?

Caroline hated that the answer was beginning to make less and less sense to her.

She frowned, unsure how to proceed. He posed a fair question, and a little honesty wouldn't kill her, but still.

"Look, I'm getting a little tired of being Damon's personal pep squad, so you'll have to settle for the Reader's Digest version." Klaus stared at her expectantly and she took a deep breath. "He's… better than before. He's changed, like… uh-uh, no interrupting!" She held up her hand, cutting off his protest. "I can already guess what you're going to say, and don't get me wrong. He is _no_ saint. I wouldn't be in his fan club even if you paid me."

Klaus raised his eyebrows as if to say '_no kidding_.'

"_But_," she went on, "at least he isn't an aimless, crazed mass murderer like he was when he first rolled into town. Now he only kills when he has to – okay, maybe that's not exactly true. Is it? I don't even know," she trailed off. Klaus threw her a look of impatience.

Caroline grinned sheepishly. "Right. My point is, killing innocent civilians no longer tops his list of favorite vampire pastimes, so yeah. Progress. Big picture."

Jeez, could she sound any more transparent? Even _she_ wouldn't buy what she was selling. Time to dig deep. Like the _abyss_ deep.

"In fact, he actually _helps_ this town stay safe whenever a new Big Bad is gunning to unleash the next Mystic Falls apocalypse. And let's not forget, he's saved _my_ life, and he's repeatedly saved Stefan and Elena, and – and – " _You got this, Caroline_. " – and he tries, okay?" _Lame._ "He _tries_ to do better. Although, to be honest, I'm still not convinced it isn't all an act to get into Elena's pants," she admitted, only half-joking. "But what if it's not an act?" she asked in earnest. "What if it's real?"

"And yet, despite this… _reformed_ opinion you have of him," Klaus began cryptically, "you still do not approve of his little dalliance with your friend." His tone was laced with disapproval, daring her to contradict him.

"Elena deserves better than him – "

"You mean our good friend the _Ripper_?" he countered, and that shut her up quick. "Listen, love. I could have gone several lifetimes without listening to you of all people sing the nonexistent praises of Damon Salvatore, and despite your doing so, I can tell you feel very much the same." He leaned forward slightly, making the vehicle feel even more claustrophobic than before. "So in the shared interest of not testing my patience any further, explain to me why you put yourself through the ordeal at all. Could it be that you're hoping you'll buy into your own press and eventually accept your friend's newest love interest? Or is it simply a half-hearted attempt to prevent me from ending his miserable existence?"

Her chest tightened painfully, and it had nothing to do with fear. "What the – you said you wouldn't!"

He waved that off. "Either he's worthy of Elena, or he's so far gone that his past crimes deserve punishment. You can't have it both ways, love, so which is it?"

"Haven't we already established that I can fight my own battles?" she fumed. "I don't need you to defend my honor or whatever, so back off. The chivalry act doesn't suit you."

"Answer the question, Caroline."

She scoffed. "I don't owe you any – "

"_Caroline_."

"God, why do you even _care_?" she exploded. "Why on earth are we still sitting here, on the side of the road, arguing about _Damon_ of all things? Why is this any of your damn business?"

"Because it seems pretty obvious to me that I'm not the only hypocrite in this car!" he threw her insult back at her. "I fully acknowledge that I am a villain, Caroline, and that I have no realistic claim to nobility in my desire to exact justice on the lowlife who wronged you in the most contemptible way. But do not condemn me for it when I have been nothing but honest with you. Can you really say the same?"

Caroline's mouth fell open. Was he for real? Here she was, sharing intimate details of her personal life – ones she kept under lock and key from even her _best friends_, for crying out loud – and he had the nerve to ask for _more_?

Recovering from the shock, she pursed her lips in annoyance. Of course he did. In his own megalomaniac world, he felt entitled to anything and everything, personal liberties be damned.

"You want the truth, Klaus? Well, fine! Here it is," she shot back, and she was gratified to witness the hybrid taken aback. "I hate what Damon did to me. I _hate_ it. How could I not? He nearly _ruined_ me!" she ranted. She took a slow, deep breath, fortifying the floodgates behind her eyes. "I was in a bad place back then, and it was probably the lowest point of my entire life. But it's _done_. And now that I've seen it for myself, I accept that he's not actually the monster he pretends to be, so…" she inhaled sharply, aware that her next confession wouldn't be well received, "I forgive him."

A beat of palpable silence, and then –

"You _what_?"

She shrugged. "I've moved on. He doesn't hold power over me anymore."

"If that's true, you could test that little theory by killing him yourself."

"And tarnish that _light_ you're so fond of?" she mocked, shaking her head in disgust. "God, is murder your solution for everything?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised. Why would I stray from a formula that's kept me alive and well for over a thousand years?"

"Yeah, alive and _alone,_" she retorted. "You kill innocent people, you dagger your own siblings, you get rid of anyone who so much as _looks _at you funny – "

"Everyone except_ you_!"

Um… what?

"Anywhere in that little character assassination of yours, did you ever stop to wonder about that, Caroline?"

For once in her life, she had absolutely no idea what to say. No. Freaking. Idea.

So she settled for blinking. Twice.

Apparently that was enough. "Do you think I let anyone else talk to me the way that you do?" he pushed. "Do you think anyone else has ever received the mercy that I have extended for your sake? I don't have to grant you these liberties, Caroline. I _shouldn't_. But I do."

And then, the words that stole her breath: "Because it's _you_."

Caroline was still speechless, and holy hell, where in this conversation did they depart the sane train into Revelation City?

Because as stunned as she was by what he just said, she was even more so by what he didn't. See, she was well acquainted with sly, roguishly charming Klaus – '_You're beautiful, you're strong, you're full of light. I enjoy you.' Blah blah blah. _– and she had always taken that guy with a whole barrel of salt. She knew that guy enough to know that _this_ Klaus was someone else entirely.

And then it clicked. He was being _sincere_. No charms, no games, just raw emotion. The vulnerability in his voice was a dead giveaway.

Those three little words might as well have been a very different, very _significant_ three altogether – _don't even think it, Caroline_ – for all the depth they held. They were far more than an admiration. They were a _confession_. Lord help her, Klaus Mikaelson actually cared for her.

And deep down, a stubborn part of her already knew just how far down the rabbit hole he'd fallen, but she couldn't ever bring herself to acknowledge it. Because she never understood the _why_. Why her? Out of the thousands of women he'd encountered over the centuries, why single her out? What made her special? She was nothing. She was just an average, teenage vampire with neurotic tendencies and no worldly experience. She couldn't even begin to fathom the mystery potential this ancient creature saw in her.

So she asked.

"Why?" It came out a whisper, but she might as well have shouted for all the weight it carried.

"Because perhaps Damon Salvatore and I have more in common than I care to admit," he told her, and Caroline instinctively knew what he was referencing.

'_He's not actually the monster he pretends to be.'_

And for God knows why, Klaus only dropped the mask in her company.

"And because," he added with obvious effort, "you make me wish for things I've never allowed myself to want in a thousand years."

Well, damn.

Caroline had to stop herself from reaching out. She had never ever seen him look so… well, _human_. It completely transformed him. His expressive eyes seared her face so brutally she could practically feel scorch marks, and his confession had completely turned her insides to jelly. Seriously, she should be a puddle of muck staining the expensive leather interior right now.

Oh God, she couldn't handle this. She needed him to go back to being crazy-psycho-hybrid-Klaus. Better the devil she knew than this imposter. This guy had the potential to break her heart. And vise versa.

What did he even want from her? Acceptance? Yeah right. Love? Oh, hell no. Redemption? Fat chance of that.

And suddenly, irrationally, Caroline was livid. Surely _that_ wasn't his actual reason? Was he honestly expecting forgiveness, like she was his freaking salvation or something? His own personal miracle worker? How dare he put that burden on her! His sins were his own to fix, so he could take those damn puppy eyes and shove them where the sun don't shine.

"Don't you dare," she snapped. "You can't just – "

"What can't I do? Have hope?" His fire was a reflection of hers, and she could practically see the shields slam back into place in his stormy blue eyes. "Grow up, Caroline. Hope belongs to everyone, not just you."

And just like that, the spell between them was broken. The car iced over again.

Without giving her a chance to respond, Klaus threw on the ignition, sending the vehicle roaring back to life. He immediately floored the accelerator and Caroline flew back in her seat as he jerked the car back onto the road, tires squealing in protest.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, confirming what she already knew. The mask was back on, and Klaus was once again the cold, unfeeling predator she knew all too well. So it made absolutely no sense that this man felt more like a stranger now.

She couldn't understand this acute pang of loss. Klaus was finally giving her exactly what she wanted. But as he flew down the road, driving her towards home and freedom, it hit her. She wasn't sure this was what she wanted. Not anymore.

* * *

Neither of them spoke the entire drive back, and Caroline was quickly becoming much too used to awkward silences for her liking. In the end, though, stubbornness won out for both parties. She resisted the urge to snort. They really were too similar for their own good.

When she wasn't fearing for her life thanks to Klaus driving like a maniac, she was silently seething over his final accusation: that she somehow fancied herself God, doling out pardons only to those she deemed worthy. Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn't. All she knew was that she hated feeling like she had somehow disappointed him.

Worse, she _hated_ that she hated it.

As they pulled up in front of her house, she began to wonder if Mr. Bipolar Hybrid would actually insist on seeing her all the way to the door like he'd promised. She should have known he wouldn't let her off so easily.

He killed the engine and was out the door and opening hers before she even had a chance to undo her seatbelt, offering his hand like a freaking Jane Austen character. It was forced, and they both knew it, but for once she didn't put up a fuss.

When they reached her doorstep, he turned to face her. "Thank you, love, for the pleasure of your company today," he told her with sincerity, but his smile lacked its usual wattage. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze… and then he was walking away from her.

Something in her shattered and she couldn't just leave it alone. Not like this.

Caroline knew it was a mistake, but she called him back anyway.

"You know," she said quietly, halting him. "You of all people shouldn't discourage me from forgiving him. Damon, I mean."

Wait, _what_? Where did that come from?

Klaus' entire body went rigid, and when he spun around, she nearly flinched at the hurt in his eyes. "Haven't we had this discussion already? Or are you really determined to go another ten rounds this evening?"

Sheesh, why was he being so – oh._ Oh._ He thought she was attacking him again. "Okay, wow, that came out totally wrong," she backpedaled, "Look, all I meant was that it's a _good _thing. Moving on, making a fresh start. I mean, think about it: If I can forgive _him_ for what he did, then…" she trailed off, suddenly unsure.

"Yes?" he prompted, looking decidedly less like a snarling pit bull and more like a skittish pup. Either way, one wrong word could set him off.

She swallowed thickly, and she realized she was actually nervous. "Then maybe – and seriously, even _maybe_ is a bit of a stretch here – maybe one day… you and I can somehow bury the hatchet, too. Find some common ground. See how things go, you know. As _friends_," she added quickly.

It was the only lifeline she could throw him. He knew that; they both did. Just as she knew, deep down, that it would never be enough.

For either of them.

Okay, forget Damon, and forget never wanting to be human again, because _this_ secret? So, _so_ much worse.

It was the reason she eventually gave in and let Klaus escort her home. The reason she hadn't bolted from his car, even though she'd had ample opportunities and excuses. The reason she wouldn't let him leave her now without extending some kind of olive branch.

And it was the reason, the _real_ one, she couldn't stomach the idea of Damon-and-Elena.

See, Elena naturally assumed that Caroline was blinded by prejudice, by her utter contempt for what Damon did to her as a human, plain and simple. Stefan probably believed that his best friend was looking out for him by trying to keep the love of his life from making a gigantic mistake with his own brother. Klaus thought her plagued by a hero complex, desperate to save Elena from a man that could very well ruin her forever – the same way he'd nearly ruined Caroline. If only they had dug a little deeper.

Because what Caroline never told them was this: Her objection had little to do with Damon, but it had everything to do with _Elena_.

Elena was one of the strongest people Caroline ever knew. In spite of a life unjustly stacked with tragedy upon tragedy – a life that would have crippled pretty much anyone else – Elena not only survived, she _lived_. She never shut down and called it quits. Instead, she always found the strength and courage to open up her heart to the possibility of getting hurt again.

Case in point? Enter Damon.

After fighting her (painfully obvious) attraction to the jerk for over a year, Elena's willpower finally decidedto abandon ship. Her fragile little vampire heart was wide open, free for the claiming, and Damon was about three suggestive smirks away from planting his flag. And while part of Caroline admired her for it, for being brave enough to take a chance that could ultimately destroy her, she just couldn't let that stand.

Caroline needed Elena to stick to her guns. She needed her to go back to being the smart girl who chose the good guy and resisted what had to be a fleeting attraction to the ultimate bad boy. For both their sakes. Because if someone as strong-willed as Elena Gilbert gave into the dark… If even _she_ couldn't resist temptation…

Then what chance in hell did Caroline have with the most persistent, powerful creature _ever_? How long could she realistically hold out against him? Were they inevitable, too?

God, no. Just… no.

But still. The fact that she even _asked_ those questions proved that Klaus had been right all along. Because the very idea of a _them_? Not so hopeless, after all. Some part of this… _attraction_ was mutual.

Wow. File that revelation under 'kill me now' and 'not gonna happen, buddy' and 'things that will keep her up at night for years to come.'

She really, really needed her head examined.

And ugh, the injustice of it all, the _how_'s and the _why_'s and the _dear-God-Caroline-how-could-you_'s gave her enough material to keep her rambling on a therapist's couch for centuries and she'd still never make sense of her utter stupidity. But it didn't matter how or why she came to care for this monster; it only mattered that she did. And she knew that acknowledging it would be her undoing.

Which brought her back to the present.

Following her rather spontaneous offer, Klaus slowly closed the gap between them, and his proximity wasn't anywhere in the vicinity of casual. Like, at all. He was also smiling so wide she half-expected to see canary feathers in his teeth and that only served to annoy her further.

It was like he _knew_.

"Friends, hm?"

And as if that suggestive murmur wasn't enough, he reached up to brush her bare arm with his fingers, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. She resisted the urge to smack him away as he smiled without a trace of innocence. He knew _exactly _the effect he was having. Smug bastard.

"Someday. _Maybe_," she emphasized, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

"Oh, Caroline," he sighed, "how long are we going to keep doing this little dance of ours?"

How long until she stopped living in denial? How long until she accepted they were friends? How long until, God forbid, she accepted they were _more_? Which was he asking?

She wanted to scoff, toss her hair – anything to say _'in your dreams, mister'_ with typical Caroline snarkiness. She wanted to, but what came out instead was this helpless little whisper that sounded nothing like her at all.

"I don't know."

Those three little words said nothing and everything, and incredibly, they were her most dangerous confession yet. By themselves the words were harmless, but with the proper kindling, they would ignite an inferno. Which is exactly what she had just done. She had shown her hand, lit the match, and now it was only a matter of time before the flames consumed her.

The significance wasn't lost on Klaus either. Air hissed through his teeth as he stared at her in wonder. Like she had just given him a priceless gift. Hope.

It was way, way too much.

Before her mouth could reveal any more skeletons in her closet, Caroline broke away from him and flashed inside her house, locking the door behind her with a satisfying click. She knew he had a permanent invitation inside, but by some small act of mercy, he didn't follow.

Anyone else might say that Klaus was respecting her need for space, but she knew better. She would be obsessing over those final words all night. And that's exactly what he wanted.

It should have alarmed her to realize how well she knew him, how easily she could interpret his thoughts and actions. It _should_ have, but it didn't. The whole evening had been one giant eye-opener for just how well they understood one another. It was a connection unmatched by anything else she had ever experienced.

That file of hers, the one containing all her horrifying revelations of the night? It was getting pretty damn big.

As she trudged up the stairs to change out of her formal attire, it finally started to sink in. God, what was _wrong_ with her? This entire day with Klaus was supposed to be just another distraction, a mission for the greater good, but it shamed her to admit that she had given Tyler and the other hybrids hardly any consideration all night. Rather than spinning a web of convincing lies, what had she done instead? She had been open and honest, revealing more of herself than ever before. To the enemy.

So when exactly had she stopped pretending? When did she lose her perspective only to gain an entirely new one? When did _he_ become the one distracting _her_?

God, this was ridiculous. Even as a vampire, she couldn't kick the habit of feeling insecure. She couldn't understand why the Original hybrid, of all people, brought out a side of herself that she liked, just as she couldn't understand why she seemed to do the same for him. She couldn't understand why 'pure loathing' no longer topped her list of feelings for this man. She couldn't understand what force of nature possessed her to confess it. To _him_. She couldn't understand any of it.

Apparently one stubborn, amoral jackass was all it took to shatter her world. Before tonight, she wouldn't have been surprised. The difference now, though, was this:

For the first time ever, she was actually considering letting him.

**FIN**

* * *

**A/N: **So… yeah. That's it. I loved writing this, and it took a lot out of me, so I hope you like it too.

And now the aforementioned disclaimer…

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **I'm fully aware that, contrary to what Caroline says in this fic, it was NOT her fault that Damon used her as a human. I would never dream of blaming an abuse victim, especially one that was compelled like Caroline. But I think it's fair to say that even at this point in the series, Caroline still harbors a fair bit of self-doubt about the whole thing, like maybe she somehow could have prevented the inevitable, and this was my attempt to show that in spite of her insecurities she has accepted her past (hence the _forgiveness_ bit) and learned from it rather than let it hold her back. Again, I am in NO way trying to excuse Damon's past behavior. I just wanted to show that Caroline has a new perspective of the issue. And as much as what she went through completely sucks, she came out the other side a much stronger individual, and… yeah. I think you get what I mean. End rant.

Also, if you've followed me here from my other story Crossing Bridges (a huge THANK YOU btw), just know that the next chapter probably won't be out for a bit. I could give you a list of excuses why, but I'll spare you. I am NOT giving up on it, but I am taking a (hopefully brief) step back to plan out some things, and I also want to try my hand at writing some one-shots, so be on the lookout for any future projects.

Thanks for reading!


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